


Well Done, Ministry of Magic

by cosmosatyrus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-11
Updated: 2012-07-11
Packaged: 2017-11-09 15:34:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmosatyrus/pseuds/cosmosatyrus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Me dad's a muggle; Mam's a witch. Bit of a nasty shock for him when he found out."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Well Done, Ministry of Magic

They’d been married in June under a grey sky that threatened rain on the coast of Glenamoy in County Mayo. To say that it was “remote” and “out of the way” would be a vast understatement, but it was where she’d grown up and the sound of the ocean whooshing at the base of the cliff made her feel at home and him like he was embarking on a wild journey. It had been a beautiful wedding, in spite of the steely clouds overhead and when they flopped down into the bed of their little house, they both sighed, happy to finally be alone together. “Oh, Mary,” he sighed, “We can finally start a family and a life together.”

She sighed with him, “You know, Brian,” they turned their faces toward each other, he admiring the blush in her cheeks and she noting the angle of his nose.

“Yes, Mrs. Mary Finnigan?”

She giggled, “There’s something you ought to know about me.”

He propped himself up on his elbow, staring into her grey-blue eyes, “Yes, Mary?” His voice was soft and dreamy. He was a man completely in love and there was nothing she could say to him that would change that.

“Well, Brian,” she sat up, arranging her wedding dress around her as she tried to move the skirts out of her way, scowled a bit and took a deep breath, “I’m a witch.”

He waved a hand, dismissing the comment as nothing special, and for a moment she was relieved, “Eh, me cousin’s a Wiccan. I kind of guessed it anyway, what with your weird friends and books on spells. I don’t care about it and it ain’t nothing to worry about. It’s an Earth-lovin’ religion...”

“What are you talking about?” Her face had screwed up with either incredulity or confusion, he couldn’t tell which.

He blinked, scratched his head, and sat up, “You said you were a Wiccan and I said that I didn’t mind it. Me cousin Elsie’s one, you see, and really, I’m just happy you didn’t want to get married in the buff.”

“You haven’t got anything to be ashamed of, Mr. Finnigan, but I have no idea why you’d think I’d want to get married in the buff.” She shook her head, “Muggles.”

“I like it when you call me ‘Muggles,’ me sweet Lambykins,” he grinned, leaning in for a kiss.

Leaning back, she looked him in the eye, “You really have no idea what I’m talking about do you?” His goofy grin confirmed it, “Well done, Ministry of Magic. Anyway,” she gathered up her dress and started to pace the room, “What I said was that I’m a witch.”

“Oh, I know,” he nodded, “and I have no problem with it.”

She crossed her arms, paced a couple times in the narrow space between the bed and the wall, and pulled a thin piece of wood from her sleeve. “I suppose I’ll just have to show you then.” She tapped the stick of wood against her lips and, when he stood up, she had decided what to do. “ _Tremulus crura!_ ” A flick of the wand later, Mr. Finnigan lay on the floor, stunned and unable to work his legs.

“What just happened?”

“I told you, Brian,” stood over him, hands on her hips, “I’m a witch. I’m a spell-castin’, broomstick-flyin’, potions-makin’ _witch. Finite incantatum_.” Brian Finnigan had, in theory, regained the use of his legs, but the shock of what had just happened kept him on the floor. She rolled her eyes, pulled out a bottle of Father Mathew’s Fine Irish Firewhiskey her father had given them as a wedding present, and poured him a shot. “Drink this, you’ll feel better.” He tossed the shot back, shaking his head as the whiskey burned down his throat. “There,” she extended her hand and helped him to his feet again, his mouth hanging open, “that’s better, isn’t it?”

“I--”

“C’mon, Brian,” she pulled him into the living room and pointed her wand at the fireplace, “ _Incendio_.”

He flopped into the squashy cushions of the couch, flabbergasted, “How did you--”

“It’s magic, Brian. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“Me cousin can’t do that!” He shook his head in disbelief, pointing at the fire, “That’s unnatural, that is!”

“Calm down, Brian, I’m still the same Mary Rundale you fell in love with.” She patted his arm, trying to console him, but to no avail. “I just happen to be a witch.”

“You bein’ a Wiccan is one thing, but this?!” He continued pointing at the fire, looking as though it might jump out of the fireplace and attack. “This--”

“Actually, I’m a Roman Catholic,” she replied, “and really I thought you’d have a harder time with that than with this. It’s not that big of a deal. There’s loads of us about, you just don’t know it because we hide what we do to keep muggles like you safe and to protect wizarding folk like me from people who just wouldn’t understand us.”

“Is-- Is Elsie one of your kind, too?”

Mary shook her head, “I don’t think so. It’s a small pond, the wizarding world, and I’ve never seen her around. We do get some goddess-worshipin’ witches and wizards, but not as often as you might think.”

“What--” he looked horrified, frightened, nearly ready to bolt from the room, but he stayed. “What else can you do?”

“Well,” she began, “I’m okay at charms, not bad with household spells, and I’m a fair dueler, if I do say so myself, but my specialty is explosions and fire.”

“Explosions?!” he’d curled himself into a ball on the couch, hugging his knees and glancing over at the fireplace, “and _fire?!_ ”

“I’ve got to go to London in a couple days,” she kissed his cheek, but it did not bring him out of his shock. Raising an eyebrow, she turned his head and kissed him full on the lips, pinning him down and climbing into his lap. “Now that I’ve got your attention, I was trying to tell you that I’ve got to go to London in a couple of days. My friend from school, Lily, is getting married and we’re both invited. I just wanted to warn you before we went that it was going to be... _interesting._ ”

“Interesting _how?!_ ”

“Well, I’m sure there will be lots of magic about,” she took another deep breath and spoke very quickly, “And there’s a mad wizard on the loose who may or may not show up to try and kill us all.” She was certain she’d broken his brain because what followed was complete silence, only punctuated by the occasional snap of fire in the fireplace.

“Alright,” he was starting to come to terms with it all and has he stood up, straightened himself out, and looked her straight in the eye with determination, she knew that she’d made the right choice in marrying him. They shared a passionate kiss, and it was as though they had not truly been married until this moment. “Well, Mary, I knew you weren’t like the others, but I would never have guessed this. A bit of a nasty shock for me, but I love ya and we’ve got a good thing going. Now, where’s that whiskey?”


End file.
